While in Japan last winter, I decided to check out one of the oldest soba shops in Tokyo, Kanda Yabu Soba. The restaurant dates all the way back to 1880, during the Edo period, and comes from a time when soba got famous as a fast food for busy people.
To my surprise, my group managed to get in. While the wait was somewhat long—around 30 minutes—it was nowhere near as bad as I was expecting for a restaurant with its reputation. When our number was called, we sat down at one of the traditional floor spots (as opposed to having western-style chairs), and I ordered seirou soba: a plain buckwheat noodle, served hot with a thin dipping sauce.
It was literally the best soba I’d ever eaten. The noodles were simple but satisfying with a fresh buckwheat taste with lots of depth, and the restaurant also offered hot water at the end that you could mix with your remaining dipping sauce to create a nice after-meal broth. Not only that, but it was very affordable, not even factoring in a strong dollar to yen exchange rate.
Japan is a land of genuinely good food at reasonable prices, and Kanda Yabu Soba is a prime example. While this value is most apparent in the many convenience stores that dot the country, what’s truly mind blowing to me is that even a nationally renowned, 144-year-old restaurant would still be so accessible budget-wise. But even putting aside such a long-lived establishment, I find that the US, by comparison, suffers from high rent, the cost of real estate, and the segregation of communities due to the prevalence of car culture. These factors make it almost impossible for niche restaurants to get off the ground and remain reasonably priced.
My only regret about going to Kanda Yabu Soba is that I didn’t have the opportunity to try more than the basic. It was excellent, of course, but now that I’ve had the seirou soba, I want to try their more elaborate options (like the one with duck!). That’ll hopefully be for next time, if I happen to be in the area again.
Bang Brave Bang Bravern is like an anime that has traveled through time to reach us in 2024, but it’s not clear whether it came from the past or the future.
The show’s creator, Obari Masami, is near-synonymous with mecha. He’s been involved since the 1980s with works like Dancouga and Gravion, he’s the reason the Brave Pose exists, and they even bring him in to animate giant robot parodies in other genres. So when he announced a new series in the form of Bravern, I wondered what form it would take, especially with him as director and mecha designer.
The answer is: one filled with shocking twists that are as baffling as they are exciting. This is very much intentional, as the initial promo material and even most of the first episode has you believing that Bang Bravern is on the grittier side, with mecha as weapons of war. The first meeting between its central characters, Japanese soldier Ao Isami and American soldier Lewis Smith, seemingly portends a story about true camaraderie on the battlefield.
Then everything goes into Obari Overdrive. A shiny red robot shows up, literally shouting all his special attacks with a sincere level of camp. This namesake, Bravern, is a heroic sort who draws a lot from the Brave franchise, especially the bonding of kid and robot that is a hallmark of those anime. Only, Isami is a grown man instead of a wide-eyed grade schooler and reacts with a mix of awe and horror. The arrival of Bravern then kicks off a culture clash between the serious original setting and its brightly colored new reality that leaves everyone perplexed and hesitantly hopeful in the face of imminent doom.
During all this, we’re treated to the opening and then ending themes. The former is a blood-pumping super robot song that draws from the genre’s collective past, with shades of Godannar, Gaogaigar, Daiohja, and even Space Battleship Yamato. The latter features Isami and Smith in the rain, slowly undressing themselves as they sing dramatically like they’re starring in a musical. Together, these two songs encapsulate much of what Bravern is about.
And that’s only the first two episodes!
At least one shocking revelation or pivotal moment hits every episode, in a manner reminiscent of both Gurren-Lagann and Samurai Flamenco. The stakes keep escalating in wonderfully outlandish ways so frequently that Brang Bravern feels like 52 episodes got condensed into 12. The result is a show that leaves little breathing room for major moments, but also appears to act as an acknowledgement that giant robot anime comes from a time when year-long shows were the norm—and that such an era has long since passed.
With its muscular and passionate men in a setting that’s normally about masculine bravado, Bang Bravern might give the impression that it’s queerbaiting. In reality, it’s not really a bait: The show is very gay. At the same time, it feels very different from a lot of other works in that territory. For one thing, the attractive guys are also surrounded by attractive girls and attractive mecha, making it a smorgasbord of hotness all around. And amidst all this cheesecake and beefcake, the story told by Bang Bravern cuts to the heart of living up to childhood ideals.
This isn’t really plot spoilers, but the final episode plays the opening but with added sound effects like explosions and clanking sounds. This is a reference to the fact that many giant robot anime of yesteryear would at some point change their openings to include similar SFX. I think that says a lot about the spirit of Bang Brave Bang Bravern.
When I first tried the hololive fan game Holocure, I was stepping into a recent video game genre that I had never experienced. But things were different with the developer’s new hololive-themed title: the side-scrolling beat-em-’up Holo X Break. In it, players take control of the members of NePoLaBo (hololive’s 5th generation) and brawl their way through waves of goons in order to defeat Secret Society holoX (hololive’s 6th generation) and rescue the CEO of hololive, Yagoo.
Beat-’em-ups are near and dear to my heart. I remember being a small kid, barely able to reach the joystick at my local Blimpie’s arcade section, staring in awe at games like Final Fight and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. They were once the games that best showed off the heights of video game graphics, eventually becoming a decidedly “retro” genre as the decades passed.
A big part of the appeal of Holo X Break is, naturally, getting to indulge in hololive fandom. All four initial playable characters have their own strengths, weaknesses, and unique abilities based on their personas. Nene is a peppy girl from another world who throws beetles and can heal herself and others. Polka is a witty clown who has a balanced moveset and can create objects out of thin air. Lamy is an alcohol-loving snow elf who can magically freeze enemies. And Botan is a lion girl whose skill in FPS games translates into a specialization in ranged weaponry. Everyone is voiced by the VTubers themselves, and numerous cute references and cameos are also strewn throughout.
The gameplay stands on its own quite well, though I found that I had to get used to its pecuilarities. Holo X Break is a curious mix of genres, built on the straightforward nature of beat-em’ups but also adding in randomized power-ups in the vein of rogue-like descendants such as Holocure. But unlike Holocure, a lot of the extra things you can do are not just automatic, and have to be actively selected. Between the core movesets featuring both basic and special techniques and an ultimate, five item slots you can fill with weapons and healing that you have to cycle through in real time, and the equipment that you can pick up and wear (or store for later)—all while being attacked by throngs of enemies—and it can feel overwhelming.
With time, I got the hang of things, especially when I realized how the game wants to be played. I wanted to hoard items, but Holo X Break discourages that, and intends for you to use your weapons liberally. It wants you to spend coins to upgrade your equipment in between stages as much as possible rather than trying to “save more for later,” even punishing you by taking away all coins upon death. Different enemies require different tactics, and figuring out who to prioritize when they gang up on you is part of the challenge. According to the developer, Holo X Break is heavily inspired by the game Little Fighters 2, but given that I’ve never played that, I find that it feels more like the older Technos games: Double Dragon, River City Ransom, etc.
Speaking of enemies, I’ve always loved fighting bosses in video games, and having them be the members of holoX (a group I adore) only adds to the charm. Just like with NePoLaBo, they’re voiced by the actual talents, and their identities have been adapted in fun and interesting ways. Fighting against them feels a little more akin to taking on a Mega Man robot master, with the way you have to take into account their different abilities and movement tendencies. Getting to see La+ Darknesss shoot orbs of dark energy and summoning bolts of obsydian lightning is nothing short of rad.
While I had some setbacks (Lui in particular can be a real skill check), I did beat the game within a day. When I went online to check out other opinions, I found that its reception is a lot more mixed than holocure’s, and much of it seems to come from simple unfamiliarity with older beat-’em-ups, as well as the modern belief that gameplay should be a more streamlined experience. The game currently has no save system and unlimited continues, which brings me back to my childhood while being a source of frustration for others.
In light of this, the developer plans on adding saves. I’ve also seen comments about not being able to get past the first boss, Koyori, despite playing for hours, and it made me realize just how difficult stepping into an unfamiliar genre can be, especially with a game that doesn’t pull its punches. One review complained that they were tired of just hitting the same button over and over—something that didn’t really bother me in the least, and hadn’t even realized was an issue in the first place. I actually don’t necessarily enjoy when games have all the fat and excess shaved off, so to speak, and I appreciate Holo X Break for not taking that route.
I haven’t gone through everything Holo X Break, but I hope to savor every piece of it. And while I’m still looking forward to seeing holoX in Holocure, I’m happy to see them here. Now, if only I could play some co-op for the true beat-em’up experience.
I’ve been keeping up with the One Piece manga for many years now, though I don’t write about it all too often because I don’t feel the need. When the subject is one of the most gargantuan works of fiction in history, it’s not hard to find opinions, articles, podcasts, and videos discussing—or even dedicated entirely to—One Piece. However, the events of recent chapters, particularly the actions of certain characters, have been so significant that I feel compelled to share my thoughts.
Naturally, I’m going to be talking about HUGE SPOILERS for the One Piece manga. To the anime viewers and anyone else who doesn’t want the surprise ruined: turn away now.
The milestone in question is the long awaited arrival of the Five Elders into the main story and the full debut of their monstrous alternate forms. The impact they have is almost unparalleled—something that only a select few series can ever accomplish because they lack the longevity. The only one that springs to mind aside from One Piece is Detective Conan, whose main bad guy is still shrouded in mystery even after some major revelations.
In action manga, especially the shounen battle genre, villains come in many forms and can often be among the most exciting and interesting characters: minor nuisances, archenemies, rivals, erstwhile allies, etc. But one area that can make or break a battle manga is the appearance of a major antagonist, especially one that has been built up in the background. Freeza in Dragon Ball is an iconic example of this being done well, from the first mentions of him, to his initial reveal, and then to Freeza’s many transformations. The span of Freeza’s debut to his true form was a little over a year, or 58 chapters. The anime stretched it out even longer, as it was wont to do.
In contrast, the Five Elders in One Piece first showed up in 2002, and their descent onto Egghead Island happened this year in 2024. That’s 22 years, and over 860 chapters—enough time for infants to grow into full-fledged adults. And what’s even more astounding is that the Elders actually lived up to literal decades of anticipation!
On a very basic level, part of the reason the Five Elders are worthy of the hype is their physical appearance. They are legitimately menacing and bizarre in a way that none of the most dangerous and freakiest of Luffy’s foes thus far can match. All five are based on demons and mythological creatures, and they exhibit a new level of uncanny. Moreover, their powers are such that merely gazing upon them knocks the average soldier unconscious, and even Luffy’s new “Sun God Nika” form can only stymie them temporarily. In other words, the Elders look and feel like unprecedented threats to the Straw Hat Pirates.
Beyond the artistry in their designs, the weightiness also comes from how these monstrous forms have been mostly kept under wraps for so many years. Aside from an earlier hint when Sabo infiltrated their domain (which showed the Elders’ silhouettes transforming), it wasn’t even clear that they were physically strong in their own right. After all, as the heads of the World Government, it could easily be the case that they were just a group of wizened old men who rule through intellect, hegemonic inertia, and political influence. The fact that they’re actually capable of outclassing nearly every other character in One Piece is both a great twist and a satisfying fulfillment of the core of shounen battle manga. Why wouldn’t the literal leaders of the world also be the biggest badasses around?
The Five Elders also now open up even more speculation:
Why are they able to regenerate from any damage, and is there a catch that might just be their Achilles’s heel? And why are the Giant Pirates able to hold their own against the Elders?
Their names are references to five of the planets in the Solar System: Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, Saint Marcus Mars, Saint Topman Warcury, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, and Saint Shepherd Ju Peter. Three of the other planets have references in the Ancient Weapons: Poseidon, Uranus, and Pluton (remember that this series began before Pluto was officially redesignated to a dwarf planet). What is their relationship, and could the Ancient Weapons somehow be key to defeating them? The two Weapons we know about in detail are associated with the sea—Poseidon is a mermaid who can control the massive Neptunians, and Pluton is the greatest battleship in history—so might the Five Elders be vulnerable to water in a way similar to Devil Fruit users? And could their distant-yet-absolute dominion over the world of One Piece have to do with a profound fear of the sea?
And what of their true leader, Imu? How can beings as powerful as the Five Elders be subservient to this individual?
One Piece is currently on a brief hiatus. This might be for the best—not just for the author, Oda, but for us readers. Maybe we need this breather before things get even more unpredictable.
Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End is a major hit, and deservedly so. In an age where fantasy anime and manga often lean heavily on gaming and RPG tropes to a fault, here instead is a much more conventional setting that also isn’t prone to the typical older swords-and-sorcery clichés. It’s a marriage of old and new while quietly forging a path all its own.
Unlike many titles in the genre, Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End takes place after defeating the big threat to the world. Its heroine is the quiet elf mage Frieren, who helped vanquish the Demon King as a member of the party of heroes. Due to the nature of her species, Frieren is extremely long-lived: To many, their 15-year quest would be a milestone, but to her, it’s just a drop in the bucket. However, at the funeral of an old party member, the kindhearted (albeit somewhat vain) hero named Himmel, Frieren realizes just how life-changing that “brief excursion” really was. In response, she embarks on a new adventure that has her retracing the steps the Party of Heroes took, gaining a new appreciation for both the past and the present, and the people who walked into her life.
Essentially, Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End is like an epilogue extended into an entire series of its own.
The original manga is currently serialized in the magazine Weekly Shounen Sunday. This ostensibly places it in the same demographic as works like Detective Conan and Inuyasha, but it also doesn’t carry the same essence as your average shounen or their typical power fantasies. Sure, Frieren can be seen kicking ass and schooling the ignorant, but what makes her an incredible heroine is not the ability to sling deadly magic or her many years of honing magic. Rather, it’s the way Frieren has very different priorities when it comes to magic.
Her real motivation is collecting fake grimoires and spells of all kinds—especially ones that are often considered mundane or even useless by others. Frieren is like a master chef from the world’s most highly rated restaurant whose eyes light up every time she gets to try the latest fast food gimmick item or cheap street stall. To her, the beauty of magic is most deeply reflected in the small and humble spells, and Frieren’s experience makes her marvel at both the familiar and the unfamiliar. There’s only one very specific exception, and it’s where Frieren is most able to show her true power in combat.
I relate to Frieren and her ideals a lot. In the pursuit of my hobbies and interests, I try to view them through a lens of discovery where silly little things are valuable in their own right.
Frieren has neither rose-tinted nostalgia for the past, nor a conviction that the forward march of progress is inevitable. Some things used to be better, some were worse, and contemporary cultures are a product of centuries of change and development but also the fading of memories. Even magic is affected by cycles and trends, which is something Frieren tries to convey to her student, Fern, and also anyone willing to listen.
The combination of the epilogue-like nature of the series, its heroine’s personality, and her tendency to take a very long view on things makes Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End feel more like equal parts fantasy adventure and travelog in the vein of Kino’s Journey. Episodes can take place over the course of a day or even six months, and travel companions will sometimes literally mature. The series also often flashes back to moments with Frieren’s original party to provide context or an interesting parallel to her current journey. And much like Kino, when things go down and action is necessary, characters don’t disappoint.
While Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End is not entirely devoid of console and PC RPG tropes (the hero and demon lord archetypes are chief among them), I want to reiterate just how much the series is not an isekai, a reincarnation story, or based heavily in the aesthetic trappings of RPGs where badassery is the main appeal. Sure, it can scratch a similar itch because Frieren is often secretly the strongest person in the room, but the series doesn’t rely on those tropes as lazy shorthand in lieu of actually being accessible.
In other words, this is potentially a perfect gateway anime that also holds up for longtime fans of anime and manga. With Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, you have a reminder that sometimes a work is popular not because it appeals to some lowest common denominator, but because it’s just solid storytelling with compelling characters, an interesting world, and a narrative that encourages thoughtfulness. It’s definitely going on my list of all-time greats, with Frieren herself being one of the best to ever do it.
And by “do it,” I mean appreciate life and all its wrinkles.
I’m always interested in trying new foods. That’s why, on my trip to Japan last year, I had a particular restaurant in mind as I landed: Chanko Kawasaki.
I had heard a lot about chanko nabe, aka “sumo stew.” It’s supposed to be the stuff sumo wrestlers consume to help bulk up—nutritious and high in protein for building muscles, and easy to eat in large quantities to pack on those calories. I happened to find Chanko Kawasaki through a simple Google search, and soon discovered that it’s not just any chanko nabe restaurant, but the original! It was founded by a former sumo wrestler turned stable head, and he devised the dish as a way to feed his wrestlers well.
The restaurant is located only a few minutes by foot from Ryogoku Station, and not far from the Ryogoku Kokugikan Sumo Hall, where matches happen. The station is decorated with large images of famous sumo wrestlers, proudly announcing the historic nature of the area.
Chanko Kawasaki is fairly small, and its entrance is around the back when heading there from the station. Given its legendary status as the origin of chanko nabe, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to get a seat. Fortunately, though, I happened to go during the sumo off-season, so there were only a couple other parties there.
My group got a standard chanko nabe, as well as a variety of skewered meats. The hot pot stew is primarily chicken meat (plus liver and kidney), along with tofu and vegetables such as nappa cabbage and carrots. It’s kept at the ideal temperature using a single portable stove. While this was indeed authentic sumo food, they don’t serve it in sumo-sized portions to ordinary folks (though you can keep ordering more).
The thing that surprised me most about the chanko nabe is how clean and refreshing it tasted. I had expected a fairly heavy dish, equivalent to brawny bodybuilders eating steaks, but it all went down easily. That doesn’t mean it was lacking in flavor, though. The broth was nice and savory, and the ingredients all tasted great. Nothing was overcooked either, and even the chicken breast was far from dry. I could easily see myself eating it often and in large quantities.
Overall, I am very glad I went to Chanko Kawasaki. While I haven’t had other chanko nabe to compare, I would be satisfied with versions even half as good. I’d be curious to see what it’s like during sumo season, but for now, I at least have my memories of hot stew on a pleasant winter’s night.
Over the past few years, hololive Super Expo & hololive fes (a combination convention and live music event) have cemented themselves as the premiere event of not just hololive, but all of VTubing. This year, “hololive 5th fes. Capture the Moment” bookended an incredible 365 days that saw the debut of two new generations, a swathe of 3D debuts, and other milestones all culminate in a whopping four-concert series.
The big visual change this year was a new triple-stage setup for the live audience. By having three stages (one in front and two on the sides), it gave the chance for different sections of the crowd to have a better view of the action at different times. This didn’t matter much to anyone like myself who was watching via the live stream, but I appreciated the effort on behalf of those attending in person.
In anticipation for 5th fes, I watched the Blu-rays of the previous years’, as well as videos of other concerts. While this year’s event was indeed bigger than ever before, it also really felt like the latest point in each VTuber’s journey. Seeing the progress of your favorites is a part of the idol experience, but what I find notable in this situation is how hololive encourages the fans to meet the talents “where they are.” Improvement is relative to oneself rather than absolute, and can consist of circuitous and unpredictable paths.
Because there were dozens and dozens of hololive talents involved, I will only be writing about a handful. That said, even if I did not include your favorite, you might be able to find them fitting into one of the categories below.
Debuting on the Big Stage
For the 3rd generation of hololive Indonesia, this was their very first hololive fes, marking a major milestone in their VTubing careers.
Kobo Kanaeru showcased her versatile singing voice and her boundless energy. Vestia Zeta displayed her sleek dancing but decided to go a cuter route compared to the hip-swaying routines of her 3D debut. Kaela Kovalskia went a simpler and more subdued route that fit her “gamer grind” persona. The range in their personalities was on full display, especially when performing the ID gen 3 group song “Save Our Hearts.”
Making Strides
Some talents, often by their own admission, are not the best singers or dancers. However, it was clear from their performances at 5th fes that they’ve taken steps to get better.
Himemori Luna has been known for her nonexistent stamina, once even needing to literally sit down in the middle of a performance while everyone else continued. At 5th fes, though, Luna was like a new person, showing no signs of severe fatigue. On top of that, her song choice—“Kamippoi na”—was a far cry from the cute and bubbly tunes she typically prefers. The contrast between her famous baby voice and the eerie feel of the number was a pleasant surprise.
Amelia Watson was originally so down on her own singing that one of her YouTube stickers is a bleeding ear. But many karaoke sessions and one original song later, things have changed. At 5th fes, she covered “Sugar Song and Bitter Step” (the ending theme to Blood Blockade Battlefront), and went full-on idol for it, not only showing better vocals but also including dancing a more complex routine compared to previous concerts. Amelia’s karaoke streams are among her most popular because they feel like going out to sing with a friend, and she maintains that feel on the big stage even as she develops.
Pushing the Limits
Progress didn’t just come from those who were lacking ability, but also those who were already highly skilled and took things to the next level. For example, Inugami Korone has gone from a front walkover flip two years ago, to back-to-back cartwheels last year, and now a fully unsupported side flip.
I’ve devoted many words to the mesmerizing performances of La+ Darknesss, and I think 5th fes is her best ever. Her song of choice was her first original, “Aien Jihen,” and its inclusion has a special importance. La+’s first performed it during her 3D debut, and it was when fans realized what a phenomenal dancer she is. However, she used a pre-recorded track due to the difficulty of the choreography (which she came up with herself!). At Waku Waku Dark Nightmare (her Nissin- sponsored solo live), she managed to both sing and dance at the same time, but the audience was all online. This time, La+ was there in front of a crowd of 11,000+—and she killed it.
Additional adjustments to the choreography made her look even more crisp, her voice remained mostly strong throughout, and her overall movement felt more intricate and daring than at 4th fes. In her own words, La+ thought the 5th fes “Aien Jihen” was stronger compared to at Waku Waku Dark Nightmare, and I’m inclined to agree. I’m happy to have seen my favorite hololive song performed so beautifully.
Takanashi Kiara is a similar case. When Myth, the first generation of hololive English, first appeared in official 3D at 3rd fes in 2022, Kiara made a big impression. There was no doubt that she was one of the best dancers in hololive, as she displayed a level of grace and confidence few could match. Then, at 4th fes the following year, an amazing debut performance by Hakos Baelz actually prompted Kiara to declare Bae the best dancer in EN. Over time, other strong dancers have also joined hololive, and it felt like Kiara was getting “powercrept,” so to speak.
Then Kiara went on stage in 5th fes and blew away all prior notions. While singing a brand new song, “Chimera,” she moved in a way I’d never seen from her before. Most (all?) of her prior choreographies have been arranged by an expert dancer named kianna, and Kiara’s “Chimera” looked closer than ever to matching that professional level. It really felt like Kiara was out there to show the world that you can never write her off, and that she was willing to put in the time and effort to prove this point. Watching in the moment, I wondered if Kiara might shine brighter than everyone else this year.
Changing the Conversation
Then Hakos Baelz came in and showed how pointless comparisons could be. By that, I don’t mean that she was inherently or objectively better than Kiara or anyone else, but that she decided to flip the script in a way that rendered such discussions moot.
Ever since her first 3D appearance at 4th fes, Bae has brought a very high level of quality and energy to every performance. Because she has been so consistently great, however, it became a question of how she’d be able to outdance herself this time around. Add in the fact that Bae herself commented on how her plans could potentially result in a flop, and fan speculation was all but inevitable. What feats of dance would she show this time?
To my (and it seems everyone else’s) surprise, Bae went in another direction entirely. Eschewing the high-octane routines she was known for, Bae went for a slow and passionate interpretive dance set to “Uta yo” (aka “Gales of Song”) from the Hosoda Mamoru film Belle. Watching her, I could feel my emotions welling up in response to her sublime choreography, the shock of seeing something so unexpected, and the boldness of Bae’s decision. Moreover, her voice was haunting in a way we rarely hear from her.
The next day, when she performed again for the hololive x Honeyworks stage, Bae did something more typical for her, and the contrast between those performances makes her sheer ability all the more impressive. Later, Bae also said that 1) she’d never done interpretive dance before this and 2) it takes her only about 2 hours to fully learn a choreography. It all goes to show how ridiculous she really is.
Returning in Style
In a few cases, certain performances were like reunions. Some of the hololive members have spent time not using YouTube and social media, and their circumstances meant that their presence at 5th fes ended up being reunions of sorts with their fans.
Murasaki Shion has been on hiatus for the past few months, and this was her first public appearance since she went on break. The roar of the crowd felt like a big “welcome back,” and seemed to communicate the idea that her supporters are there for her through thick and thin.
But while it was already known that Shion would be there, there was actually one talent whose performance came completely out of left field. Last year, Haachama ended up in the hospital not long after 4th fes, and she had to take eight months away from streaming. Because so much time had passed and because there wasn’t much time for her to practice after she did return, Haachama was not scheduled to be at 5th fes.
Then, without any anticipatory fanfare, Haachama blinked onto the stage. Watching the stream, I could hear the slight delay as general confusion in the crowd transitioned into pure excitement. Haachama sang “Idol,” the opening to Oshi no Ko—a song whose content fits an unpredictable girl who declares herself to be the “Worldwide Strongest Idol.” At the very end, she transformed one of the lyrics into a shout of “I love you!” as if to show her gratitude to everyone watching.
There was one other reunion of sorts, though it was more like a story going full circle. One of the last songs of the event was “Last Frontier,” performed by Hoshimachi Suisei and AZKi. The two are among the very best singers in the entire company and naturally sounded amazing, but the song also has a special significance: It was originally written by AZKi for Suisei when Suisei was transitioning from hololive’s INNK music label to the main branch, and AZKi was considering retirement. However, both have stayed with hololive, and Suisei even secretly rewrote some of the lyrics to go from being about sending someone off to achieving new goals together. When Suisei then read out a letter to AZKi about their time together, AZKi couldn’t hold back her tears.
Final Thoughts
It’s funny seeing just how massive hololive has gotten. In those earliest blu-rays, it’s clear that this whole project was a much more humble affair. The concerts were just decently large (but not gigantic) crowds of people in front of screens displaying their favorite VTubers, and actively buying into the illusion presented. Now, everything is so slick that it feels like another world. A bit of the intimacy has been lost in the process, but despite that one drawback, I think this change has been good for hololive and VTubing as a whole.
All the different journeys detailed above, combined with the variety of performances, made for an emotional rollercoaster. There were even plenty of fantastic showings that I didn’t touch on, where the stories weren’t as dramatic but were still wonderful to see play out—even ones as simple as “They put on a great show that the audience adored.”
My only worry is that 6th fes in 2025 looks like it’ll have at least 10 new talents to account for, and I can see my free time (and my sleep schedule) slipping away.
Official VODs are currently available until April 17.
There are plenty of manga about a boy and a girl growing closer, but I only know of one where the relationship centers around escape games—Watashi to Dasshutsu Shimasenka, or Won’t You Escape with Me?
A school boy named Tsunami Kousuke has a problem where people think he’s a creep because he tends to think about and analyze things very quietly and intensely, creating all sorts of misunderstandings. One day, he finds a mysterious school notebook with a code on the front, and after cracking it, realizes that it’s from the meek girl who sits next to him in class, Tojino Aika. It turns out that she’s obsessed with puzzles, and she left that notebook around to see who could be her partner in tackling her favorite type of challenge: escape games. She loves them not just for the problem-solving but also the atmosphere, even being willing to play the damsel just to add to the flavor.
Aika is what I refer to as a “safe yandere”: a character with the intense, obsessive look of a yandere, but targeted at something harmless or only indirectly related to people. She has a very magnetic design and personality as a result, somewhat reminiscent of one of my favorite girls, Hanayo from Love Live! Even skimming the manga can be entertaining, as you get to see all sorts of fun expressions from Aika.
If you can/do read it, though, all the puzzles are meant to be solvable by the reader to a certain degree. Unfortunately, knowing Japanese decently is not enough. I’ve done escape games, and I can read Japanese well enough to understand what’s going on, but I don’t think I could solve these puzzles on my own. There’s a certain degree of familiarity one has to have with a language to begin to decode some of the abstract requirements of the puzzles, and that’s simply not where I am. It’s like why I can never figure out the answers to Professor Agasa’s puns in Detective Conan.
While some series based on similar premises might have the characters progress towards tournaments or something else shounen-like, I don’t think that’s what’ll happen here. Rather, comparable series would be something like Dagashi Kashi or Mysterious Girlfriend X: Boy-girl bonding centered around a specific gimmick. If you like it, you like it.
Four collected volumes are currently out, and I wonder what kind of readership it has built up. Whatever the future of this series might be, though, I actually think it would make for a really good anime. The three-dimensional spaces and the sense of urgency could translate well to animation, and I think Aika herself would be a very popular character.
20 years of Precure is an astounding milestone, so it‘s only appropriate for this magical girl franchise to celebrate hard. To wit, we’ve seen a sequel where characters are all grown up, gallery exhibitions, a concert, and of course, the latest main entry: Soaring Sky! Precure.
Known in Japan as Hirogaru Sky! Precure—hirogaru meaning “expand or spread,” and also being a pun on “hero girl”—the series stars Sora Harewataru, an aspiring hero and a resident of a magical world called Skyland. When the king and queen’s baby, Ellee, is kidnapped by an agent of the Undergu Empire, Sora uses her superhuman athleticism to chase down the culprit, but a mishap causes them to all end up in the human world. Sora needs the power to protect Ellee, and she soon discovers it: Ellee has the latent ability to help create fighting magical girls called Precure.
In many ways, this isn’t unusual for Precure, but there is one immediate difference that is crucial: Sora Harewataru is blue.
To those unfamiliar with Precure as a whole, that might not seem like a big deal. However, throughout its long history, pink has been the dominant motif of all but one protagonist: the original from 2004, Cure Black, and even she has pink highlights. Chalk it up to marketing or heteronormativity or whatever, but that’s the standard Sora Harewataru, aka Cure Sky, defies just through character color alone.
Along with her athletic tomboy personality and her desire to become a hero who fights to protect others, Sora feels like both a return to the roots of Precure but also a pivot into uncharted territory. Her presence is a signal that Soaring Sky! breaks all the rules of what Precure is supposed to be like, and as more Precures join the team, other “expected standards” start to fall like dominos. Why does the pink-haired girl have to be the lead? Why can’t a boy become a Precure? Why can’t an adult? This habit of asking itself and the audience “Why?” becomes a central thread of the series.
Soaring Sky! is conceptually one of the strongest series in the franchise, and it largely succeeds in its execution. The characters all feel very distinct and memorable, and not just because they depart from established norms. Whether it’s the gorgeous and personality-filled transformation sequences or the interactions, they feel realized as unique individuals. One of my favorite early moments comes from when Sora is attending school in Japan for the first time and shouts with gusto, “YES! I AM VERY SHY!” despite being a very straightforward person who also happened to break every school athletic record (and can shatter boulders with her fists untransformed).
The villains also end up having a lot more depth to them than many past entries, with some of the most interesting arcs for them across Precure. Even the final boss is given more development than usual. And one of the potential biggest drawbacks, the constant presence of a baby, turns out to be one of the show’s strengths.
That said, it can sometimes feel like certain characters just aren’t getting enough attention. The way the show portrays the aforementioned adult-age Precure, Cure Butterfly, often comes across like the creators weren’t entirely sure how they wanted to convey her relative maturity to a young audience. In her better moments, she’s shown providing a perspective her younger teammates lack, but she often seems kind of distant. Compared to The Power of Hope: Precure Full Bloom, Butterfly ends up feeling a little flat, though I wonder if that’s the difference between trying to write sa mature character for children vs. writing one for adults.
The highs of Soarin’ Sky Precure are (appropriately) very high, but the show can get a little overly meandering, and it doesn’t live up to its potential in every instance. However, the show is trying to do a lot, and it still works by refusing to confine the possibilities of what Precure can be. As the series moves from start to finish, the series asks why “the way things are” can’t change for the better, and why can’t we be the ones to accept the possibility of a brighter future.
Godzilla is practically a genre unto itself. With a 70-year history, the movies featuring the world’s most famous reptilian titan have run the gamut, from thought-provoking to spine-tingling, and silly to somber. Now, the franchise has entered the Reiwa era with one of its most unique entries in Godzilla Minus One, winner of the 2024 Academy Award for Best Visual Effects.
The actual title of the movie piqued my curiosity upon seeing it—what does “Minus One” even mean? The answer is a work that has decided to go the opposite direction of most remakes. Rather than asking what would it be like if Godzilla emerged in [insert modern era here], Godzilla Minus One moves the clock back and explores what it would have been like had Godzilla arrived at the end of World War II. Specifically, the story is about Shikishima Koichi, a would-be kamikaze pilot who ran away from the grim fate set out for him, and whose encounter with Godzilla instills an additional level of trauma in him.
The most powerful thing about the film is the complex emotions that not just Koichi but everyone around him are processing in the aftermath of World War II. An old neighbor looks at him as a traitorous coward, but dire poverty forces them to make a connection. Koichi forms an erstwhile family with a woman named Noriko and a young orphan named Akiko, but his desire to provide for them is tinged with a refusal to see a happy future with them out of guilt for all the soldiers who couldn’t make it back to their families.
The version of the film I watched was called Godzilla Minus One/Minus Color, meaning it was done in black and white. Going in, I wondered if it was just novelty, but the fact that it takes place in a time before the original Godzilla’s release makes the aesthetic decision very appropriate for the period.
In a way, Godzilla Minus One and Koichi serve as another perspective of a feeling present in another Japanese film about the wartime era: In This Corner of the World. That film shows how the constant message of “sacrifice yourself for the war effort” affects the civilians in ways they don’t even realize until everything comes tumbling down, and Godzilla Minus One looks at how a soldier is affected by the same propaganda. On the surface, there are times when the film seems like it might be saying something worrisome about bringing back the glory of Japan, but it’s ultimately much more complex and anything but jingoistic.
Koichi’s actor, Kamiki Ryunosuke, delivers an amazing performance that tears at the heart and soul. Incidentally, I had recently watched him in the live-action movie adaptation of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Diamond Is Unbreakable Part 1, where he plays another character named Koichi. In that work, Kamiki is far and away the best actor despite being in a supporting role. I later found out that he’s actually been a voice actor since childhood, appearing in multiple big animated films from Miyazaki Hayao and Hosoda Mamoru. Out of this illustrious career, Godzilla Minus One might be his finest work ever.
I applaud the makers for going this hard with a franchise film that’s meant to transition into a new era in Japan. It could have been all too easy to play it safe, but this one looks just as inward at Japan’s history and problems as Shin Godzilla and even the original. Let the Universal films bring the action—Minus One encompasses the other end of the grand Godzilla spectrum.
OGIUE MANIAX 